


Pay For This

by taylocrow



Series: Jonsa Kink Week [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dry Humping, F/M, Orgasm Denial, jonsakinkweek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-13 05:04:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13563429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taylocrow/pseuds/taylocrow
Summary: Sansa is sick of being left hanging, and takes matters into her own hands to get some feel good payback.





	Pay For This

**Author's Note:**

> this is so silly

This is getting beyond ridiculous. Here Sansa lays in her childhood bed, just as sexually frustrated as she had been at 16, but now she’s 25 and entirely too old for this.

 

It’s summertime, it’s much too hot, and they’re all having forced family time over the awkward grieving of Ned’s cousin’s second wife. Catelyn insisted they all be home for the funeral and that all of them were to stay inside the walls of Winterfell estate during their stay.

 

Much to Sansa’s surprise, joy, and fear, Jon Snow was included in all of this. It's been a year since she'd last laid eyes on him. The Stark siblings had attended the wake, funeral, and reception without complaint due to Catelyn and Ned’s promise of allowing them to go out at night with no curfews or guilt trips. All in all, it’d been a pretty pleasant visit, even with the death in the family.

 

The only thing really weighing Sansa down, besides pretending to be sad over a woman she didn’t know, was the aching throb between her legs. The one that had cursed her since the first time Jon stuck his hand down her pants seven years ago. Now, anytime she’s in his presence she feels herself buzzing in anticipation. Will they or won’t they?

 

Anytime there’s alcohol involved the answer is _always_ they will. But tonight at the pub, he hadn’t so much as slung an arm around her shoulder. Jon hadn’t batted a lash when she danced on three other men, or allowed them to buy her drinks, he didn’t even sit next to her on the uber ride home.

 

Arya threatened to puke if Sansa complained anymore and had fallen asleep moments ago, leaving Sansa to stare up at her ceiling in a form of teenage angst she had long forgotten about. Jon never kept her waiting and wanting like this, and for that, she was determined to make him pay.

 

Sansa sat up in a huff, pulling at her black body con dress she had yet to change out of, and tore through her door and down the hall to where Jon had been sleeping. But when she peeked in, there was no sight of him. Surely he’d gone to bed just like the rest of them?

 

Then it donned on her: Robb’s room. The two of them had this weird thing about sleeping on each other’s floors since they were kids. Sansa hadn’t realized Jon was still doing it at age 28. Yet when she opened her older brothers’s door, there he was, sprawled out on Robb’s carpet.

 

His plush lips were slack, eyelashes ghosting his cheeks, and tiny snores poured from his mouth. Jon looked downright fucking _precious_ and it was probably all the lemon drops from earlier that made Sansa feel like crying at the sight of him.

 

Robb’s snores were violent, loud, and ripped through the silence of the sleeping house. At least he was asleep, Sansa thought as she tip toed over to his best friend’s sleeping body. She laid herself down beside Jon and planted a wet kiss to his neck.

 

“What the!” He gasped in shock and Sansa quickly covered his mouth with her hand. “It’s just me!”

 

Jon’s panicked eyes shrunk in size and he wiggled away from her silencing hand. “What on earth are you doing?”

 

“I could ask you the same!” Sansa whined, “I was waiting!”

 

Jon furrows his eyebrows at her, “We’re here for a funeral!”

 

Sansa huffs at that. Because honestly, he’s right. This is what Jon Snow does to her. She sighs quietly and moves to get up, but his forearm flattens her back to lying beside him. “Where are you going?”

 

“We’re here for a funeral,” Sansa mocks him obnoxiously, to which he begins tickling her. She lets out a drunken shrill squeal and wiggles from his grip, but Jon shushes her loudly and pulls her close. “Shut up!”

 

Sansa giggles quietly in the crook of his neck before slinging a leg over his hip to straddle him. Jon’s hands fly to her legs and shakes his head, “Sansa! No! Your brother—”

 

“Is asleep.” Sansa grins wickedly and leans down to kiss his cheek. She can still smell the Jameson on his ragged breath, and focuses in on her mission of making him pay. There’s nothing that drives her crazier than her and Jon’s inability to nail the whole timing thing down, and here she’s been around all week and he hasn’t so much as shot her a lingering look!

 

Jon heaves a sigh and runs his hands up to grip onto her hips, “This isn’t a good idea.”

 

Sansa rocks her hips against him nonetheless, and he makes no move to shove her off. Jon doesn’t return the motions but merely stares darkly up at her, swallowing thickly at the sight of her. It gives Sansa the confidence she needs to shimmy her ass enough so that her already short dress rises up over her hips. Now her bare self is grinding against his boxers, the heat and hardness of his cock egging her on further.

 

“Fuck.” Jon grunts and tightens his grip enough that Sansa knows she can count on bruises.

 

Robb snores, Jon licks his lips, and Sansa traces a hand down her body to her clit.

 

She stares right in his eyes as she starts to play with herself and throws her head back when Jon raises a hand to pluck at her hardened nipples. It’s driving her crazy, but she’s so, so close.

 

Jon moves to pull his boxers down, but Sansa’s hand flies away from herself to stop him. “God dammit Sansa. You’re driving me mad.”

 

An evil smirk crawls across her face, and she returns to touching herself with him as an eager audience. Jon finally returns the actions and begins to rub his cock against her, breathing loudly and wantonly.

 

“If you keep doing that I’m not going to have to be inside you to finish,” Jon rasps.

 

Sansa brings her other hand to start stroking him as she rubs against herself. Knowing how close he is is what pushes her over the edge, chanting his name over and over as she finally gets the release she’s been craving.

 

“Fucking hell, Sansa,” Jon’s eyes squeeze shut, “That’s it, baby.”

 

And just like that, she stands up, pulling her obscene dress down as she does so. Jon’s left reeling, blinking up at her confused, “Wh-what?”

 

Sansa sniggers at him, lightly kicking his bottom with her barefoot, “Don’t keep me waiting next time.”

 

“Sansa!” Jon shouts out after her as she turns to leave.

 

Sansa smiles to herself when she hears Robb’s sleepy voice reprimand Jon's outburst, “Will you shut up! Leave my sister alone for once and get some sleep.”

 

_I can’t wait to pay for this_ , Sansa tells herself as she falls into a puddle of exhaustion on her bed. _Maybe this time we’ll get it all right._

**Author's Note:**

> Jonsa kink week is so fun, IM LIVING.


End file.
